Monday, August 24, 2015

Special Report from Auggie Doggie

Since it’s the Dog Days of Summer and my true name is August, it’s time for my special report. As you know, I have a very
important job. My human mom, Marilee, writes books and I’m her muse. In other
words, I’m supposed to be her source of inspiration. It’s a hard job because
she has a bajillion ways to actually avoid writing. The woman never runs
out of excuses.

“Oh,” she says. “My computer
screen needs cleaning.” Out comes the spray bottle and cleaning rag. Squirt.
Wipe. Repeat. And it doesn’t end there. Suddenly, the printer needs dusting,
the trash emptied, the bookshelf re-arranged. She also needs what she calls thinking time. Looks a lot like naptime
to me, but what do I know? I’m just the muse.

Now for my favorite excuse. She says,“Is that a spider on the ceiling? It might fall into my hair, make a nest and
deposit a bunch of spider eggs. I can’t possibly work under those conditions.”
If I had the ability to speak, here’s what I would say. “Hello! You have a
laptop. Move it to the kitchen.” Instead, I just sigh and look reproachful. If that
doesn’t work, a cold nose nudge on her bare leg does the trick.

There are days when I must be
doing a great job, because she gets a certain look in her eyes, plops down in
her chair and writes for hours. When that happens, I curl up in bed and
think deep thoughts. I call it napping.

I guess you can tell my line
of work is exhausting and requires special snacks, namely liver treats along
with an occasional slurp of frozen yogurt. All in all, not a bad gig. A muse’s
job is never done. Just saying . . .